


Chocolate and Confessions

by DeereReaderGirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeereReaderGirl/pseuds/DeereReaderGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is a baking train wreck, but with Bellamy's assistance she improves and feelings come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate and Confessions

Clarke sighed as she dropped the saucepan in the sink. The smell of burnt chocolate permeated the air. She hated cooking and baking. She was terrible when it came to working magic in the kitchen; put her in the lab and she could work magic with chemicals and reagents, but the kitchen? That was a whole other story. She wanted just to surprise Bellamy. To prove that she could do more than ace chemistry classes and lead her extra-curricular groups when needed. Really, she just wanted to impress him. To win one of those rare, Bellamy smiles, smiles that he reserved for Octavia, and anyone, goodness knows they are few and far between, that he cared about. She knew that Bellamy didn’t often have people doing things for him, and he had mentioned how much he liked no-bake cookies the last time they hung out. They’d been having a debate about pre-made cookies versus cookies from scratch. Clarke, being the kitchen nightmare she was, was all for pre-made cookies, but Bellay was all about making things from scratch. Since that night when Bellamy told Clarke how he loved no-bake cookies and that there was no way any packaged cookie could ever top them, Clarke had been toying with the idea of making them for him. 

“How hard can it possibly be to make no bake cookies?” Clarke asked herself in disgust. 

Clarke looked at the clock and groaned in frustration. Bellamy was supposed to be there in five minutes, and after six botched attempts, all Clarke had to show for her struggles was an apartment that smelled like burnt chocolate, and a filthy kitchen.

“Well,” Clarke said, “I guess I’ll start cleaning up.”

Clarke grabbed a dishcloth from the sink and started scrubbing the stovetop and the countertops. She had just started working on the dishes in the sink when she heard her front door opening. Frantically, she observed the kitchen trying to see if there was anything she’d missed, anything that could giveaway her failed attempts. Seeing nothing, she dropped the dishrag in the sink, dried her hands on the towel hanging on the refrigerator door, and made her way into the living room. Clarke couldn’t help but smile when she heard Bellamy walking in her direction. They may have had a rocky start, but she couldn’t help but smile when he was around now. Time and time again he had proved that he was trustworthy, that he was a man she could count on. Bellamy rounded the corner, smirking and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. When he looked directly at Clarke’s face, he broke out into one of those rare smiles, but instead of greeting Clarke, he started chucking, which turned into all out laughing. Clarke was confused; she couldn’t understand why Bellamy was laughing at her.

“Oh, Clarke,” Bellamy managed between laughs, “wh-what were you-you doing before I got here?”

“Uh,” Clarke sputtered. 

She reached up to touch her cheek, and as her fingers grazed her skin, she could feel what the problem was. There was chocolate on her face. How on earth had she gotten chocolate on her face?! Clarke turned around and started walking back to the kitchen.

“Well,” Clarke started, “I wanted to surprise you. To have a snack ready for when you got here, and it went slightly . . . awry.”

“I’ll say,” Bellamy chuckled. “What exactly were you trying to make?”

Clarke reached the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel from the roll off the counter, wetting it in the sink. Clarke scrubbed her face and turned to face Bellamy.

“I was trying to make no-bake cookies. Apparently, no-bake cookies aren’t the simplest things to make,” Clarke grumbled.  
Bellamy stared at Clarke for a moment with a surprised expression on his face.

“You mean to tell me that you can mix chemicals with ease in your chemistry classes, but you can’t make no-bake cookies?” Bellamy asked, smiling.

Baking and cooking had never been her strong suit. Kitchen work was something that her mom excelled at, but Clarke took after her dad, who in no way excelled at anything to do with cooking.

Clarke groaned, “Those are two completely different things!” 

“Uh, no. They’re not,” Bellamy replied with a smug expression on his face.

Bellamy moved past Clarke to the dish drainer, and pulled out the only pot she had managed to remove the burnt chocolate from completely. He put the saucepan on the burner and turned to face Clarke.

“Okay, Princess, I’m going to teach you to make no-bake cookies,” Bellamy said.

Clarke’s jaw dropped. Bellamy knows how to bake? Clarke thought. Of course he knows how to cook you moron! He’s been taking care of Octavia since their mom died! 

“Princess,” Bellamy inquired, breaking Clarke out of her daze, “where is the recipe?”

“Oh, ah, it should be on top of my cookbook. Top shelf of the bottom cabinet there. On your right,” Clarke directed.

Bellamy bent down and opened the cabinet door. Seeing the recipe, he pulled it out and laid on the counter top.

“Okay, Princess,” Bellamy said, “I need milk, butter, sugar, cocoa, oats, vanilla, and salt.”

Clarke went about the kitchen collecting what Bellamy needed, still in a little bit of a daze. Even though she knew he’d spent most of his life taking care of Octavia (who undoubtedly wanted sweet treats when she was little), it was still a little surprised that big, bad, rebellious Bellamy Blake could make no-bake cookies. Clarke was brought back from her ponderings by Bellamy chuckling. Clarke realized that while she had been digging through a drawer for measuring cups, that she had stopped digging, and was staring at Bellamy. 

“See something you like, Princess?” Bellamy asked, sounding rather smug.

Clarke blushed, and mumbled something about getting lost in thought. When she finally found the measuring cups she needed she took all of the items to the counter by Bellamy and stood there expectantly. Bellamy looked down at her and arched an eyebrow.

“You aren’t expecting me to do all of the work are you?” Bellamy asked.

“Uh, yeah, I was kind of thinking that,” Clarke responded.

Bellamy shook his head, grabbed Clarke by the waist, and pulled her in front of him. Clarke was startled. Now, instead of leaning on the counter, facing Bellamy, she was firmly between Bellamy and the oven. Clarke could feel the warmth of his body behind her and the warmth of his breath feathering across her neck; the combination of the two sent chills down her spine. 

“Now,” Bellamy said, “take the milk and the stick of butter and put them in the saucepan.”

Clarke complied, and Bellamy reached past her to turn the heat on for the burner, and handed Clarke a spoon to stir the two around. Clarke was starting to feel fairly nervous, because her first three attempts ended with her burning the milk and butter before she could even add the other ingredients. Bellamy must have sense Clarke’s apprehension, because he wrapped his hand around the hand she was holding the spoon with and stirred with her. Maybe cooking isn’t so bad after all. . .Clarke thought. Bellamy’s hand felt good wrapped around hers. She could feel the calluses he had gotten from years of hard work, and though his hands were rough, she marveled that the one wrapped around her own somehow felt soft when it was holding hers so gently. After a matter of a couple of minutes, the butter had melted into the milk and Bellamy indicated that she should add the sugar and the cocoa. When Clarke began stirring again, Bellamy leaned his head closer to hers.

“This is always the trickiest part,” he said softly, “if you don’t stir enough, you’ll get a big, burnt mess, but if you pay enough attention, the chocolate turns out perfect.”

Clarke couldn’t help the sensation of heat climbing up her neck when Bellamy’s breath was on her ear. When the mixture finally boiled, Clarke wanted to scream in relief, because in all of her botched attempts, she’d never been able to get past this point without having burned something. Bellamy helped Clarke add the remaining ingredients, and directed her to get wax paper for the cookies to dry on. Clarke retrieved wax paper she didn’t even know she had and returned to the counter Bellamy was leaning against. Clarke shooed him to the side and tore a sheet of wax paper from the roll. Soon, the two went to work dropping piles of warm, chocolate goodness onto the paper. Clarke, being slightly OCD, had to wipe every bit of chocolate and oats from the spoon before she would move on and start another cookie. When they had finally gotten all the cookies laid out, Clarke took the saucepan from the counter and placed it in the sink. She was about to wash her hands when Bellamy snatched the hand with the chocolate on the fingers away from the stream of water. Clarke looked up at Bellamy in puzzlement. Why wasn’t he going to let her wash her hands?

“You cannot seriously tell me that you, a girl, would wash chocolate down the drain,” Bellamy said.

Clarke attempted to pull her hand away, wanting to get the sticky chocolate off her fingers, not even having considered licking it off. When Bellamy wouldn’t relinquish her hand, Clarke looked up at him in exaggeration, only to see a devilish look on his face. Clarke was frozen in place by the flirtatious look in Bellamy’s eyes. Slowly, Bellamy raised Clarke’s hand to his mouth and licked the chocolate off the chocolate covered finger. Clarke was in shock. This Bellamy in front of her was not a Bellamy she was used to. She was used to stormy, silent, serious Bellamy, not a flirtatious Bellamy. Before she could really think about what she was doing, Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s had, and licked the chocolate from his fingers. Bellamy had not been as delicate as Clarke when he was wiping off his spoon, so he had chocolate on three of his fingers. The two stood facing each other. Bellamy’s gaze dropped from Clarke’s eyes to her lips, where she could feel that there was chocolate on her bottom lip. As Clarke reached up to wipe the chocolate away, Bellamy lunged forward, putting his hands on either side of her face and brought her lips to his. Bellamy’s lips were warm and soft pressed against her lips, and he tasted like chocolate. Bellamy broke the kiss and looked down at Clarke with a questioning look on his face. Clarke couldn’t understand how he couldn’t tell how he affected her; how attracted she was to him. His look seemed to ask if it was okay that he kissed her, should he do it again. In reply, Clarke threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his face down to hers again, kissing him with all the force she could muster, hoping that in that kiss he would be able to understand all the things she was always to shy and unsure to say. She could feel Bellamy smiling against her mouth, and she smiled too. They broke apart, and Bellamy grinned at her.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” they said at the same time.

Bellamy’s grin only grew when he saw the surprised look on Clarke’s face.

“What, Princess? Did you think I was always hanging around for your ‘amazing’ cooking skills?” Bellamy asked jokingly.

Clarke was stunned speechless. Was Bellamy saying he felt the same way she did?

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying,” Clarke asked in an embarrassingly breathless voice.

“Well what do you think I’m saying,” Bellamy responded.

“Uh,” Clarke started, “that you, ah, erm, like me? Maybe?”

Bellamy chuckled.

“Clarke, I’ve been attracted to you for months. Since the first moment I set eyes on you, I knew I wanted to be close to you. Even as frustrating as you were, I knew that you were going to be important to me,” Bellamy said softly.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything,” Clarke asked.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out why fearless Bellamy Blake wouldn’t have been forthcoming with her.

“Clarke,” Bellamy sighed, “Do you have any idea how intimidating you can be sometimes?”

Me? Intimidating? Clarke thought. How could Bellamy Blake, the man who watched his mother die and stepped up to act as father to his younger sister have been intimidated by her? Clarke decided it didn’t matter, if Bellamy felt the same way she did, she wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spend time with him worrying about how intimidating she was, or was not. 

“Bellamy,” Clarke murmured. “I’m glad you finally told me how you felt.”

Clarke smiled up at Bellamy, hardly believing her luck. Bellamy wanted to be with her. She wouldn’t have to daydream and imagine what it would be like for Bellamy return her feelings anymore. Clarke reached up and grabbed the back of Bellamy’s neck and brought his lips to hers. Grinning, Clark thought, cooking really isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
